Making It Big
by An Author's Pen
Summary: Because if a rattata can do it, so can I. So can anyone.
1. Chapter 1

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Pokemon trainers are the lucky ones.

I asked Mom why I couldn't be a pokemon trainer and she explained it to me. To get a "starter", like you see on those big TVs, you need to already have enough money to buy "basic training supplies" so that you can take care of the pokemon when you get it. Well, my dad does whatever work he can find on the docks and my mom spends every hour of the day she's allowed as a waitress at Cafe Sonata. We don't have that kind of money to spare.

I do my best to help out, but I'm not strong enough or old enough to be worth hiring yet, so I mostly hang around in the sewers. Sometimes I can find dropped money or items. My biggest find was an ultra ball some stupid trainer must have left behind. When I first spotted it I thought I was dreaming, but I touched it and it was real. My next thought was that surely one of the trainers hanging around the place would spot it and claim it from me. If they did, how could I stop them?

I stuck the ball in pocket, but it bulged horribly. So then I took my jacket off and tied it around my waist, the ball still hidden away in one of the pockets. I tried to walk as casually as I could. When I was finally up on the open streets I nearly laughed with relief. I didn't, though. If people start looking at you funny, nothing good comes of it. They don't want scum on the streets.

I think the clerk at the pokemon mart cheated us. Probably took one look at our clothes and decided he could get away with it. Mom says resale value is always lower, or something like that, but he only gave us 300 poke for it. That's – well, half would be 600, and half of that again is 300. That's just a quarter of what it's worth, right? That's not fair.

My best friend, Sammy, says I'm a whiner. She's right. I'm luckier then most of us: my parents have a house to rent when it's fall and winter, and I have a jacket. I love my jacket more than almost anything else ever. Well, I love Mommy and Daddy of course. I love, love, love Castelia cones even though I've only tasted them once, when the nice lady had some left over one day when it was cold and nobody was buying. But my jacket is the most pretty light blue, the color the sky's supposed to be like. The sky always looks gray here. Mom says it's the pollution.

There's only one thing softer than my jacket, and that's Champ's fur. Champ's my best friend who's not a human. I call him Champ – Sammy says it's a lame name, but Champ tried to tell me his real pokemon name before and it just sounded like rat-tat-tat-tata to me. He can't say my human name right either, so he calls me rat-ratta-tat.

Everyone says rattata are pests, but they call me a pest too. I think Champ's amazing. His teeth can break through anything and he never gets lost when it's dark. I've gotten better at seeing in the dark, but I'll never be as good as Champ.

Champ and I have a plan. I'm worried it's a stupid plan, though. That's why I haven't told Mom or Sammy or Dad. That day when Mom explained about pokemon trainers to me, she said you don't need an "official" starter. You just need a strong pokemon – well, a pokemon strong enough to fight the wild pokemon and trainers you meet on your journey. But to catch a strong pokemon without another pokemon first you need to buy lots and lots of expensive poke balls. Or you need to pay for some one else to capture it for you or for someone else to raise it up for you. So you need money.

Here's the thing, though. I don't need a pokeball to make Champ come with me. I've told him all about trainers – the free food, free healing, the quick money. Also, unlike battles down in the sewer, trainer battles end when the pokemon are uncon – unconscious! He got all excited when I told him, chittered a whole lot, and gave me his biggest grin. Well, not exactly a grin, but he does this thing with his whiskers and ears that's basically the same.

It's late now, nearly time for me to run home so Mom and Dad don't worry. I'm sitting with Champ, and we're both thinking over our plan.

"If we want to do this," I tell him slowly, "we have to train so that you're stronger than all the other rattata. I know that sounds tough, but I'll help you! I can give you some of my food every day, so that you don't have to spend the day looking for some, and instead we can practice your moves. We'll be a team, right? That's something none of the other rattata have got."

"Tatta!" In response, Champ lifts his front paws up and down really quickly, like he always does when he's excited.

And you know what? I think we can do this. I do.

Because even if no one else does, I believe in Champ.


	2. Chapter 2

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We've been training for forever now!

Well, okay, maybe just a few months. But Champ has grown so much stronger! He learned this crazy new move where his teeth light up and then he just destroys everything! Only the stronger rattata who also know the glowy-teeth move want to challenge him now. It's actually kind of a problem, because battles with the strong rattata are really close and tire Champ out for the rest of the day. It would be easier if he could keep fighting the slightly weaker rattata, but it wouldn't be right for him to beat them up even if he stopped when they feinted because then they would be too tired to find food that day and then some other pokemon would beat them up too and then they'd starve.

Recently I got an idea, though. After Champ beats a weak rattata, I give it enough food to get its strength back. I'm really glad Mom's friends with one of the chefs, because otherwise we wouldn't be able to get all these leftovers. I can't take too many though, or Mom might get suspicious. I don't want her to know what Champ and I are doing in case we fail. She's noticed me taking more food, but so far she just thinks I have a growth spurt.

Winter is almost over, and I've been thinking it would be best to leave in Spring. That way it wouldn't be cold, but it wouldn't be that hot either. I'm trying to figure out a way to tell Mom and Dad. I want to prove to them we're strong enough, so today Champ and I are gonna test ourselves outside the city.

The gate guard gives us a suspicious look as we leave the city, but we ignore him. Route 4 is a sandy mess. My hair starts flying all over and Champ lets out an irritated chitter.

"Let's get this over with," I mumble, and Champ agrees. He runs right off into a patch of grass. "Wait up!" I hurry after him.

By the time I'm there Champ's already found some one to fight. It's a sandile. Sammy's told me all sorts of things about sandiles and I know she was probably lying so I should be worried but now sandile is staring at us with it's eyes gleaming and I'm a bit nervous. Just a bit. Sandile opens its mouth in a lazy yawn and I see its teeth. They're really sharp, but not as strong as Champ's teeth, I bet. That makes me feel better.

"Go, Champ!" I say. Champ comes forward and twitches his whiskers threateningly at the sandile, who closes its mouth. Sandile starts to flick up sand at us, like there's not enough sand in the air already! "Champ, tackle it fast!"

Champ moves quickly, knocking that sandile right on its back. "Bite it hard," I tell him. Champ's teeth light up and he gets the sandile good, right on the stomach. The sandile twitches and the next second all this sand starts coming up from the ground, surrounding rattata like a whirlpool! I've never seen a pokemon do anything like that and I don't know how to help. Just as I'm standing there like an idiot, the sand settles back down and I can see Champ, looking tired. He's got sand all in his fur. He'd probably look funny if I weren't so worried.

"Come on Champ!" I say, trying not to sound nervous. "Fast tackle again!" Champ gets up and starts to run towards sandile, but as he's getting close, the sand covers him again. This time I run forward too, thinking that maybe I should dig him out and we should run, but the sand goes away quicker this time and Champ doesn't look much worse off. "Can you get it?" I ask.

"Tatta," Champ says loudly. He's close, and this time the sand doesn't stop his tackle. The sandile goes flying back a few few and he doesn't get up. We wait for a moment, but then we realize that we've beaten sandile! "Champ," I say, "you're the best!"

In response, his ears and whispers perk up, so I know he's happy.

"Hey, are you okay, though? Did the sand get in your throat?"

Champ shakes his head. Well, that's good. But I still plan on giving him a long brushing when we get back.

The sandile stirs a bit, and I realize I haven't given it any food like I usually do after we win. I almost don't want to, because it gave me such a scare with the sand. But then I think I'm being stupid. If I spent more time here, I'd probably know all about the sand. So I stick some food close to sandile, but not too close. Even though sandile looks beat, I'm still a bit nervous about the sand.

"Guess we should head back home?" I say to Champ.

"Tatta," he agrees. "Rat-ratta-tat, rat-tat-tatta!"

I pick him up and spin around a bit. He glares at me, but he doesn't bite, so I know he's just pretending to be mad.

"We did it," I say. But I know this is only the first step.


	3. Chapter 3

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"You're crazy," Sammy says.

I stick my tongue out at her. Then I realize I'm acting like a kid, not a trainer, so I try to look stern or something. It doesn't really work, cause Sammy starts to giggle a bit.

"I'm not joking," I tell her. "Don't laugh."

She stops giggling and looks at me close. "You're not joking? But, Lena, I'm not joking either. That's crazy."

"You don't think we can do it?'" I ask her, but really I'm not asking. I'm kinda mad.

"You don't know too much about trainers, kay?" Sammy says. "I do. You know that time I did some volunteer work in the Poke center? Well, they told me a lot about what happens if you lose. Cause if you lose, then you're stuck out in the wild with no pokemon to protect you. And whoever you lose to can take your money, all of it! I mean, they wouldn't if you've got whatsit – identification, right, but if you just look like a street rat with a pokemon, then I don't see what would stop them. It's not safe."

"Sure it's safe," I say. "If it wasn't safe, why would so many kids go for it? They don't need money or anything cause they have nice clothes. They do it for _fun_. They wouldn't do it if it wasn't _safe_."

"It's safe for them," Sammy says patiently, like she always does when she knows better. "They look like trainers. No one bothers real trainers."

That's true enough. Trainers walk around like they're some sort of royalty, like it's still back when Unova had a king.

"Once I've won a few battles, then I can buy trainer stuff."

"Once you've won a few battles," Sammy repeats. "Do you really think you can win one?"

"Yeah," I say. "Champ and I have trained hard – "

"So have the other trainers. And they have pokemon raised for pokemon battles. They have rare, strong, _special_ pokemon."

"Champ may not be rare or special," I say, "But he's strong. And Sammy? None of those other trainers – what I mean is, they're doing this because it's fun. Champ and I are doing this because we need to."

Sammy's quiet for a moment. Maybe she's thinking about how she'll get a job of waitress if she's lucky. Then she smiles, but smiles sort of sad and sort of angry. "Bust them all up for me, will you?"

"I will," I tell her. Then I look down at Champ and correct myself. "_We_ will."

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My parents take it in quietly.

"Lena," Dad starts, looking confused. "Do you really think -?"

"Champ's strong," I tell him. "We're even beating pokemon outside the city." Well, one sandile and a scraggy we fought the next day, but same thing.

"Don't you have to register . . .?" Dad asks. "Or something?"

"No." It's Mom. She sounds thoughtful, which is good. If Mom told me I couldn't go, or that I couldn't do it, then I wouldn't, because I trust Mom to know. "It could be done. Certainly trainers on the road wouldn't ask for identification. And battle chivalry does ensure fair play."

I'm not exactly sure what "chivalry" means, but I don't want to say. I'm pretty sure Mom's agreeing.

"So I can go?"

Mom and Dad exchange a Look.

"Why don't you wash the dishes while we talk?"

I make a face. "You just want to talk about it when I'm not here."

"That's right," Dad says, smiling at me. "Off you go, then."

I start to leave with loud stomping sounds, then remember I'm suppose to be acting not like a kid. I put my head up and stand very straight. "Come along, Champ," I say. "We are going to do the dishes."

"Ratta-tatta," Champ says.

Most of the time I can hear everything that goes on in the house, since there's only really the kitchen, the bathroom, and the big room were we sleep, but with the water running I can't hear anything. Parents are sort of sneaky, I guess.

By the time Mom and Dad call me back, I've finished the dishes and I'm playing with Champ. Mom comes in first. I can't tell anything from her face. She and Dad sit on the ground next to me.

"By league standards you're old enough," Mom says. She means that I'm ten and eight months. You can leave on your journey as early as ten.

"And Arceus knows you've seen more bad weather than most of the brats out there," Dad adds.

"I'm not going to lie," Mom says. "If you can pull this off, it would mean a lot to us." For a moment she frowns and I can see that she's getting older. Soon they won't want her as waitress at the Cafe. Experience is one thing, Mom once told me, but a pretty face is another. And Dad's been having problems with his back lately. That's probably cause he spends so much time moving lumber at the docks, but if he can't bend well then he can't work.

Castelia's the greatest city in the world, but it's not cheap staying here.

"I know, Mom," I say, reaching out a hand to pet Champ. Champ's fur always makes e feel better.

"But Lena," Mom continues. "It's clear to me you love Champ. You may love being a trainer. And if you find something you love, nothing will make us happier."

"We're proud of you now," Dad says. "We'll always stay proud of you, no matter how this works out."

I don't know how to look at them, so I just keep petting Champ. He snuggles closer. "Thanks guys," I manage to say. "But I am gonna do good. And then you guys won't have to worry so much."

Then Mom's hugging really tight. "You shouldn't be worrying about us," she tells me. "Worrying is our job. Your job is to be a great trainer. Now come on, tell me how you met Champ here. Tell me how you've been training."

I sort of wipe away a tear I hadn't even realized was on my face and take a deep breath. "Okay. It's a long story?"

"We've got all night," Dad says. He makes a show of crossing his legs and leaning forward.

"Well, it started in the sewers," I begin, sitting up and letting Champ hop to my side to help me act our first meeting out.

Champ and I go on speaking, and sometime as I'm talking I notice that I'm smiling and that my face is all dry. Mom and Dad and Champ are all close and I sort of feel that things might be okay.


End file.
